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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281839">Someone Like You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumschlatt/pseuds/cumschlatt'>cumschlatt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamxGeorge - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, dnf - Fandom, dreamnotfound - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom GeorgeNotFound, Brat GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Flustered GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Slow Burn, Smut, Top Clay, Video Blogging RPF - Freeform, dream - Freeform, dreamwastaken - Freeform, georgenotfound - Freeform, top dream</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:49:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumschlatt/pseuds/cumschlatt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU.<br/>George was a stubborn college student who usually preferred to remain on the low-low. Although that all changes when he runs into Dream; a questioning popular boy who happened to own the Frat-House he was letting loose at.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>535</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! this is a oneshot i decided to turn into a small fic from my wattpad account ‘claywastaken’ :) there’s gonna be 2 chapters and this is the 1st. happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Frat-House parties were no secret on college campus. From small get togethers to full-blown parties that are eventually shut down by campus security—they never remained on the low. Young adults were desperate to let loose after a week of work, both school and side jobs.</p><p>And tonight, the college campuses most popular Frat-House was throwing a party. The group of boys referred to themselves as 'The Dream Team.' People either loved or hated them. </p><p>And George, George hated them. </p><p>He thought the name they had given themselves was cocky and arrogant, he thought they were assholes who were desperate to get laid, he despised them.</p><p>He steered clear on them on campus, and on a rare occurrence he happened to be attending the same party as them—he never accepted one of their drinks.</p><p>So why did he find himself standing outside their house? </p><p>The old building had already accumulated plenty of people, so many that they swarmed the front and backyard. Silhouettes dancing and bobbing around could be seen through the windows. The sound of someone hurling could be heard, and George cringed at the noise.</p><p>The brunet sucked in a breath as he stuck his hands into his pockets before making his way up the sidewalk and into the house.</p><p>He curled in on himself the second he felt people elbowing him from the tight capacity, and he rose to his tip-toes in an attempt to locate a kitchen, or any other area that held drinks. As George peered above the heads of other people he spotted a staircase right besides a kitchen. The kitchen wasn't as populated as other rooms, and that drew George in.</p><p>"Excuse me, yeah let me just—" George mumbled as he snaked past people, rolling his eyes when he received a shoulder shove. He let out a heavy exhale when he finally reached the kitchen. His eyes darted between the fridge and the cups that spilled across the counter. </p><p>The entire room looked filthy and sticky. George grimaced as he approached the counter, grabbing an already used cup off the counterfeit marble. His hand gently grabbed the ladle that was slowly slipping into the big bowl of—whatever the vibrant blue drink was. He poured himself a cup before letting the ladle slip back in. </p><p>He brought the cup to his lips as he let his eyes slip shut. The liquid tasted absolutely disgusting and George fought the urge to spit it out. Finally, he managed to choke it down. His eyes darted around the house in search for his next move. Once he spotted the back door, he quickly headed in it's direction, red solo cup at his side. </p><p>The backyard was just as populated as the inside, if not more. A shitty, discolored white table sat in the yard, cups formed into triangles on either end. George approached the table with caution, watching from several feet away as two teams competed in beer-pong. His eyes floated around as he took yet another sip of his distasteful drink, and he nearly thanked the heavens when he spotted a cooler several feet away. </p><p>George quickly made his way over, desperate for any other kind of drink than the one he had. Luckily, several beer bottles rested in the watered down ice. George set his cup down on the ground as he retrieved a bottle from the cooler, using the edge of the case to pop it's lid off.</p><p>Then, George sauntered back to his previous place in the yard, watching as the beer-pong game continued. George stood about as he watched the game, sipping his beer every once in a while. The brunet watched as the girl on the far side of the table focused on tossing the ball towards the boy stood at the near end of the table. Her toss was too far, and she sent the ball rolling towards George. </p><p>Quickly, George swooped downwards and scooped up the sticky ball. The boy at the near end approached him, a look of confusion on his face. George furrowed his brows as well as he held the ball out. The other boy quickly took the ball from George's grasp, fingers brushing as he did so. The boy turned on his heel and whipped the ball towards his other team members.</p><p>"I'll be back over in a second! Sapnap, take care of our team!" The boy called as he turned back around. Sapnap. George gagged at the name. He was one of the members of The Dream Team. How could George not have realized it?The man in front of him was Dream. He should have known from the letter man jacket, from the smug look on his face. "I've never seen you around here?" Dream asked as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans.</p><p>"Mhmm. Parties aren't really my thing." George said with disinterest as he took a swig of his beer. </p><p>"You've come to the right place for your first party—" George choked on his beer. </p><p>"It's not my first party." he said strongly. </p><p>And it wasn't. </p><p>During his freshman year of college, George attended parties, any party he could. He was just like any other horny freshman. Parties were easy hook-up opportunities, why would he let them slip? Although now he had matured, and constantly attending parties wasn't a necessity.</p><p>It's not that George hated parties—he hated The Dream Team. </p><p>"I never see you around here?" Dream said as he grinned. "I'm Dream, by the way. This is my fraternity."</p><p>George nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I know who you are." George said.</p><p>Dream cocked a brow. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?" </p><p>"Why do you need it?" George asked. "George. My name is George."</p><p>Dream nodded as he whispered George's name. "George." he repeated louder. "I like your name. It's pretty. Rolls off the tongue smoothly." Dream said as he took a daring step closer. George scrunched his face as he took a step back.</p><p>"Thanks." George said as he took another sip of his beer.</p><p>"You'd be prettier below me though. Don't you think?" Dream mumbled quietly, eyes darting to the sides to ensure nobody heard.</p><p>George choked on his drink for what seemed to be the thousandth time that night. Not only from Dream's comment—but the interest Dream had in men?</p><p>"Big bad Dream likes boys?" George asked as he took a step closer. "Big bad Dream wants to hook-up with me?" George teased.</p><p>Dream's hands retracted from his pockets. He rubbed his palms against his jeans in a nervous fashion. "Maybe and maybe." </p><p>George chuckled to himself as he glanced behind Dream, eyes landing on the beer-pong table.</p><p>"Your mates don't know about your preference?" George asked as he nodded to them. </p><p>"No, and I want to keep it that way. Besides, I know about you." Dream said lowly. George cocked a brow. </p><p>"You know about me?"</p><p>"You've been around the block. I saw you at parties a few years ago, I know what you've done with guys yourself." Dream said in a hushed tone. </p><p>"I don't keep it a secret though, Dream. Y'know, since you know so much about me, I'm surprised you didn't know how much I despise you and your friends. You should thank god I have at least a little decency and won't leak your little secret." George mumbled as he took a sip of his beer, eyes staring into the other boy's.</p><p>"W-what?" Dream stuttered as he glanced behind him at his friends. </p><p>"I said what I said." George whispered as he winked before turning on his heel, making his way back inside. </p><p> </p><p>Small get-togethers were more of George's scene. They were calmer and The Dream Team steered clear of any social gathering that didn't have copious amounts of alcohol. </p><p>Yet of course, even a small get-together he was personally invited to still managed to get invaded. Albeit there wasn't that many people at the house, there was far too many than George would have liked. </p><p>Now, George leaned against the wall of the living room, arms crossed over his chest as he watched people play Drunk Jenga from a distance. He pulled the sleeves of his black crewneck over his hands as he observed.</p><p>This get-together blowed anyway, and George would be best heading out. As he went to push himself off the wall, a voice stopped him.</p><p>"Thought parties weren't your thing?" </p><p>George raised a brow as he turned his head to the side. He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. "What do you want?" George asked as he turned to lean against the wall. "I didn't expect to see a Dream Team member lurking around here." George said.</p><p>"I heard there was alcohol so I came. I'm a simple man." Dream said as he leaned against the wall as well. "And why are you here if you despise parties so much?" Dream teased.</p><p>"It started off as a small get-together and then everyone else showed up. I was actually just about to head out." George said as he glanced at the exit behind him. </p><p>"Tired of me already?" Dream asked as he smiled.</p><p>"Yes, actually." George said as he stood up straight. "And hey, where's your letterman jacket? I've never seen you without it on. Tried seeming like less of a dick today?" George teased back as he reached forward, dragging an innocent finger down Dream's sage green hoodie clad chest. </p><p>"Wanted to lay low tonight. Didn't wanna be as recognizable." Dream said as he watched George's hand fall to his side.</p><p>"Why's that?" George asked.</p><p>"Incase I ran into someone like you." Dream said quietly. </p><p>"Someone like me?" George mumbled as he pointed to himself. "Someone like me.." George trailed off as he awaited an answer.</p><p>Dream rolled his eyes. "Someone whose into boys. There, I said it." </p><p>George chuckled. "I haven't even had anything to drink. There's no way in hell I'm touching you." </p><p>"Have you always been like that?" Dream asked as he stood up straight, peering down at the brunet.</p><p>"Like what?"</p><p>"Have you always needed to be drunk when you hook-up?" Dream repeated the question, yet this time with more clarity.</p><p>"Of course not, Dream. I'm only drunk when I hook-up with someone like you." George said quietly to prevent others from hearing.</p><p>"Someone like me?" Dream asked just as George did minutes prior.</p><p>"A straight boy." George murmured as he looked up at Dream. "If that statement is even true." </p><p>"You could help me figure out if it's true." Dream teased, placing a finger against George's chest just as the brunet did earlier. </p><p>George rolled his eyes as he grabbed Dream's wrist forcefully. He pushed past the taller boy, tugging him in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. Dream followed closely behind eagerly. George used his free hand to grab the staircase railing as he quickly trotted downstairs, taking Dream with him. George pulled the blond towards the bathroom at the end of the hall, pushing him inside the small room before shutting and locking the door behind them. </p><p>"Kiss me." George said as his hands reached up, resting themselves on either side of Dream's face. Without hesitation, the brunet crashed his lips onto the blond's.</p><p>Dream's hands found their place on George's waist, pulling him closer. Every recent desire and curiosity was fulfilled in that very moment. George's lips worked so lustfully against Dream's. The blond's  hand balled George's shirt and he tugged him as close as possible. Dream was backed up into the door and had nowhere else to go. It was just the two of them, nobody around to see. This only coaxed the two of them further on, and George found himself pressing his hips into Dream's in search of friction and a verbal reaction.</p><p>Dream snatched his head back as he seethed, flourishing in the way George pressed their erections together. "Fuck," the blond said as he tossed his head back. George retracted one of his hands from Dream's jaw and let it fall to his crotch, gripping him through his dark blue jeans. </p><p>"You're hard." George said as he palmed the boy through the denim. </p><p>"N-no shit." Dream retorted as his head lolled forward, eyes falling down to his groin where George's hand worked on pleasing him. </p><p>"In such little time, too." George mumbled as he watched Dream grip the door handle desperately. George dropped his other hand from Dream's jaw to his crotch as well, using it to unbutton the restrictive item of clothing. The blond's hazel eyes watched as George tugged his jeans down to mid-thigh, his briefs following in pursuit. </p><p>"Please," Dream said as George looked up, locking eyes with him. "please touch me George." George compiled, taking Dream in his left hand. He watched as Dream's facial expressions changed with every painfully slow stroke he delivered. George nearly drooled over the way Dream's throat bobbed when whined. The brunet ghosted the pad of his thumb over the blond's oh-so sensitive tip, dragging the pre-cum that began to leak down the rest of his cock. "Shit George." </p><p>"You like that?" George teased as he began twisting his wrist with every stroke. Dream could only nod as his eyes were screwed shut and his jaw hung slack. George smirked as he hovered his head over Dream's manhood, pursing a wad of spit out, letting it fall down below as lubricant. Dream shivered at the contact as he involuntary bucked his hips upwards. "I think," George paused as he set a quicker pace, applying a bit of pressure as he stroked him. "I think you've figured out how you feel, yeah?" George asked as he retracted his hand.</p><p>"W-what? No!" Dream whined as he tipped his head forward, watching as George took a step or two backwards.</p><p>"I never told you I'd help you finish." George said as wiped his hand off on his own jeans. A devilish grin tugged at his lips as he watched Dream tug his briefs and jeans back up. "Besides, I have plenty of blackmail now." George said as he pushed past Dream and unlocked the door, slipping out.</p><p> </p><p>George goes weeks without bumping into Dream, although that could have been because of his lack of attending parties.</p><p>He wonders if Dream has been thinking about him, hoping to run into him at a party or small get-together. He also wonders if Dream had long forgotten about him and the moment they shared in the downstairs bathroom and has moved back to women.</p><p>Why did he care so much?</p><p>George hated The Dream Team and Dream especially, he thought they were assholes who were desperate to get laid, he despised them.</p><p>So why did he care?</p><p>Maybe he himself was desperate to get laid and for that reason he clung onto his and Dream's moment alone. </p><p>That had to be it.</p><p>It wasn't because of his charming looks, it wasn't because of how pretty his face looked when it was scrunched in pleasure, it wasn't because he thought his name was pretty, it wasn't because Dream actually spoke to him first—</p><p>"I shouldn't have ever touched him." George mumbles to himself as he stands outside The Dream Team Frat-House. "I shouldn't even be here." George mumbles as he watches silhouettes bob behind the windows and people snake in and out of the house. </p><p>It's Friday night. His week has been long. He's had lots of school work and he's got the night off of his job. </p><p>It's okay to be here, right? It's just a party.</p><p>It's The Dream Team Frat-House's party though.</p><p>And George is only there to see Dream. </p><p>This time around, George skips slipping into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of whatever that vile drink he imbibed was nearly a month ago. He heads straight to the backyard, because he knows there's a rundown cooler next to a rundown beer-pong table. </p><p>Dream isn't competing against some beautiful blond girl at the table though, they're faces he's maybe seen once or twice at parties and around campus. </p><p>George groans as he turns on his heel and slouches back into the house, forgetting to retrieve a drink from the cooler. He glances around the living room in search of a blond wearing a letterman jacket, yet all he sees is a swarm of bodies rubbing against each other. He looks around the house before ultimately deciding to check the downstairs level of the house. </p><p>George grips onto the railing as he maneuvers around people before finally reaching the basement. It's nearly deserted besides a single straggler whose exiting the bathroom and a group of people sitting around a worn couch, beer bottle and cans littering the chipped wooden coffee table and their grasps.</p><p>And there he is.</p><p>There's Dream.</p><p>He's sat perched on the arm of the couch, holding the neck of a beer bottle in one hand, his other lazily playing with a foreign girl's brunet hair, similar to the color of his own. </p><p>Nobody seems to notice him at the doorway, they're all too caught up in their own conversation to turn their attention towards something else. At least everyone besides Dream. He's constantly on guard as it's his house. </p><p>The two of them lock their earthy eyes. They're sucked into their own universe as they stare at each other from across the room. </p><p>Eventually, George is the first to look away. His eyes dart to the floor and he turns around, hand brushing the railing as he nearly tramples people the escape Dream's gaze. </p><p>George can hear Dream's strong voice tell someone to hold his beer, most likely the girl whose hair seems to be swallowing his hand whole. Footsteps ring against the wooden floor as they chase after him. </p><p>The brunet is shoving people left and right, and just as he's about to exit out the front door, a sturdy hand snatches him by the wrist and yanks him back into the house. George yelps as he's tugged backwards and upstairs. He's nearly tripping over himself as Dream pulls him upstairs, which is even emptier than the lower half of the house. </p><p>"Let go—" George snaps as he's tugged into a bedroom. The door is kicked shut by Dream and locked.</p><p>That felt familiar.</p><p>"Where have you been?" Dream asks aggressively as he protects the door, the only exit. </p><p>"Keeping my distance from you." George says as he runs a finger against his wrist. "Who was that?" George asks back.</p><p>"That's not important." Dream says. "Why have you been keeping your distance?" </p><p>"How many people have you slept with since I gave you that hand job?" George asks as he shifts his gaze from his wrist to Dream's face.</p><p>"No one." Dream rushes out. "I've slept with no one." </p><p>"That's hard to believe—"</p><p>"I haven't slept with anyone, George!" Dream snaps as he steps closer. "Do you fucking understand? I haven't slept with anyone, okay? Now tell me why have you—" </p><p>"Because I care and I shouldn't." George cuts him off. </p><p>"About me?" Dream asks.</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>There isn't a moment of hesitation in Dream as he takes another step closer, closing the proximity between him and George. Their mouths slot together like puzzle pieces, and their hands feverishly drag across each other's bodies. Dream's lips were cold from the beer he has been previously drinking, and gave off a bittersweet sensation. George's soul opened up to the other boy. Words couldn't describe how ecstatic it felt to finally be this close to Dream again. How sensual it was, the peace it finally brought George was overwhelming. </p><p>Dream's hands are hungry for more as they slip under the seam of George's shirt, dragging against the skin as his mouth works against George's like a starving man. The blond is desperate for George, he wants so much more as he pushes him towards the bed.</p><p>He wants to carve him with his fingers, like he's emptying the inside of a cantaloupe, he wants to see George squirm under him and beg for more, he craves George so badly, he's so hungry for him. Finally, he hold George's shoulders down as he pushes him onto the bed. He stands above him, hands slipping into his hair as they tip his head back. "George," Dream says in a low voice. George's hands go to work at the button of the blond's jeans, and as hard as it is Dream grabs his hand and puts in down in his own lap. "make those pretty little fingers dance for me." </p><p>And George does. </p><p>He makes his fingers dance until he's sprawled across the bed, shirt bunched along his chest from Dream pushing it up there. His fingers dance until there's white spurts along his chest, white spurts that Dream is so desperate to taste. </p><p> </p><p>George stretches besides Dream, whining in the process. The blond has one hand tucked behind his head, the other lazily roaming through George's hair. His gaze is towards the ceiling, and he's lost in thought. </p><p>"Are you gay?" George asks as he looks over at the boy laying next to him. Dream exhales heavily at the question, and George can't help but admire the way his care chest rises and falls. </p><p>"I don't know," Dream whispers as he gently tugs on George's hair, massaging his scalp. Only thirty minutes ago was Dream finally doing what he craved, carving into George with two fingers. "you're the only boy I've ever done anything with." </p><p>George nods. "Maybe you're bisexual." </p><p>"Maybe," Dream says as he looks over at George. "was it good?" </p><p>George smiles as he looks over at Dream. "Yeah, yeah it was." he hesitates saying his next sentence, yet he does after a mere second of thought. "I used to think you were an asshole." George says.</p><p>"A lot of people think that." Dream says as he exhales heavily again. He twirls a strand of George's hair around his finger. </p><p>"I don't anymore, though. And I don't know why. I guess you're just intriguing. You're like a book with a lock that I so badly want to read." George said as he shrugged, letting his eyes flutter shut from the sensation of Dream playing with his hair. </p><p>"Clay. My real name is Clay." </p><p>George looks up at Dream—Clay. </p><p>"Clay is a pretty name." George mumbles as he sits up. "You'd be prettier below me, though. Don't you think?" George asks as he places his hands on Dream's chest, straddling his lap. </p><p>Something much better replaces Dream's two fingers this time around. And this time, Dream does taste.</p><p> </p><p>George leaves The Dream Team Frat-House with Dream's number. The second he returns to his own apartment, his phone is in his hands and he's texting the other boy. </p><p>'Hey, I had a lot of fun tonight.' Is the first text he sends him. </p><p>'I had a lot of fun too ;)' Dream sends back from his own bed after the party in his house has been put out by campus security like a fire. </p><p>'Wanna study with me at the library tomorrow?' George asks. 'Or is that too boring for someone like you?'</p><p>Someone like you. </p><p>'I'd love to study with you tomorrow, George.' Dream sends back.</p><p>'Alright then :) Goodnight, Clay.' </p><p>'Goodnight George. BTW, you're my everything.'</p><p>George smiles to himself as he sets his phone down on his chest. Dream was all he could think about that night. </p><p>And just like they had discussed over text, Dream goes to the campus library with George the following day. Whilst George studies, Dream scrolls through Twitter on his phone. George assumed he wouldn't study anyway, but just having the other boy there with him is all he wanted. </p><p>George is pulled out of his studying trance when he feels Dream's foot brushing against his own under the table. </p><p>The brunet looks up at Dream through his lashes. Dream looks at him as well, but it's only a small glance. Nothing more than his hazel eyes ghosting over him. With that, George turns his attention back to studying. </p><p>Only a few minutes later George's studying is interrupted again. This time, Dream's foot is rubbing against his ankle, dragging up and down. </p><p>George sits straight up in his chair, setting down his pencil. Dream looks at him as well. "Hi." Dream greets.</p><p>"What're you doing?" George asks. </p><p>"Nothing. Being kind." Dream says quietly, letting his foot slip to the inside of George's ankle and further up his leg. "What, you don't like when I'm kind to you?" </p><p>"No. I do." George said as he smiled softly at him. Then, he returned back to taking notes. </p><p>As he jotted down important definitions, George could feel Dream lower his foot back down, setting it atop of his own. He smiled to himself as he continued to work. </p><p>"George." Dream speaks up, setting down his phone.</p><p>"Yes?" </p><p>"What's your favorite color?"</p><p>"Blue." </p><p>"Favorite drink?" </p><p>"Apple juice." </p><p>"Stay in or go out?"</p><p>"Stay in." </p><p>"Morning or night?"</p><p>"Night." </p><p>"Chocolate or vanilla?"</p><p>"Dream. I need to study." </p><p>"C'mon, I'm bored."</p><p>"Clay, please. I need to study." </p><p>"Fine." Dream murmurs as he slouches in his chair. "I like when you say my name. Say it again." </p><p>George sets his pencil down with a frustrated exhale. "Clay." </p><p>"Again."</p><p>"Clay."</p><p>"One more time?" </p><p>"Clay." </p><p>"Okay. You can study now." George rolls his eyes playfully. </p><p>"I think I'm better off studying at home." George says as he shuts his text book. </p><p>"Can I come with?" Dream asks.</p><p>"No, go home. You're too distracting." George says as he shoots him a smile.</p><p>"Is that a good or bad thing?" Dream asks as he followed behind him. </p><p>"Whatever you want it to be." </p><p>"I kind of want it to be a bad thing."</p><p>"Oh?" George asks in an amused tone. </p><p>"Mhmm. In what ways am I distracting?" Dream asks as he rests a hand on the small of George's back, but only for a split second. </p><p>"All of them." George replies as they exit the library. </p><p>"I'm gonna' go home." Dream says as he glances at the right side of the sidewalk. "Bye, George."</p><p>George smiles. </p><p>"Bye Dream."</p><p>"Say my name?"</p><p>"Bye Clay." </p><p>"Bye George."</p><p> </p><p>Dream unlocks the door to his Frat-House, kicking it shut behind him. </p><p>"Whose there?"</p><p>"It's Clay!" Dream calls as he kicks off his shoes, slouching to the living room.</p><p>"Where have you been?" Nick asks from the couch. </p><p>"Just out with a friend."</p><p>A friend.</p><p>"A friend? What friend?"</p><p>"His name is George." Dream says as he sits down on the couch across from him, tugging his phone out of his pocket. </p><p>"George? George Davidson? Gay George?"</p><p>"Yeah?" Dream says as he looks up at Nick. </p><p>"That's weird, bro." Nick says. "Sus if you ask me." Dream fights back embarrassment.</p><p>"You're nasty for thinking that," Dream says as he chuckles. "besides, I keep my distance around him when I see him." </p><p>That's a lie.</p><p>He couldn't keep himself off of him at library. </p><p>"Yeah, you probably should. Have you heard about the things he did with some guy freshman year?" Nick asks. </p><p>"No. What'd he do?" Dream asks.</p><p>"Weird shit, dude. Just be careful around him." Nick warns as he shrugs. </p><p>"Right." Dream mumbled as he goes to message George.</p><p>'Told my roommate that I hung out with you. He said you did weird stuff with a guy freshman year.' Dream texts. </p><p>'Never did anything besides what I've done with you.' George replies.</p><p>'That's what I assumed. He told me to keep my distance from you.'</p><p>'What'd you say back?'</p><p>'I told him not to worry about it.'</p><p>Lie.</p><p>'Alright. You're not ashamed of what we did or anything, right?' George asks.</p><p>It's so easy to lie over the screen. </p><p>'No.'</p><p> </p><p>It's been weeks since George and Dream's hook-up. More hook-ups followed, as well as plenty of risqué texts sent during the latest hours of the night and earliest hours of the morning. </p><p>Now, Dream and George are sat at opposite ends of George's couch, legs tangled together as they watch a movie. </p><p>"What are we?"</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>"What do you mean?" Dream asks. </p><p>George paused the movie. He gives his full attention to the conversation at hand. "What are we?"</p><p>"We're people. Boys specifically." Dream says, dancing around what George wants to hear.</p><p>"No, I meant relationship wise." George says. The long stare Dream gives him makes him regret asking. </p><p>"I don't know what we are." Dream says.</p><p>"Boyfriends?" George asks.</p><p>"B-boyfriends?" Dream repeats. </p><p>"Do you.. do you not want to be boyfriends?" George asks, voice cracking.</p><p>"I-I don't know—"</p><p>"I thought you liked me?" George asks as he grips the blanket on his lap. </p><p>"I do! I do—I'm just not out yet, I don't know what my friends would think—"</p><p>"I thought your friend didn't care?" George asks. </p><p>"He—I-I lied." Dream murmured. "I told him I keep my distance from you and I was careful around you." Dream admits. </p><p>"You keep your distance from me?" George asks. "You keep your fucking distance from me? Please, Clay, tell me that again while your dick is up my fucking ass! How's that for keeping your distance, huh?" George yells as he chucks the blanket off, standing up. Dream stands up as well. </p><p>"Do you understand that I could lose everything? All my friends? All—"</p><p>"Correct me if I'm fucking wrong, but you told me I was your everything! Was that a fucking lie, too?" George yells—no, screams. "Do you do this to everyone, Clay? Play them? Is this why everyone on the fucking planet thinks you're an asshole?" George screams as he tugs on his own hair, storming out of the room and to his bedroom. </p><p>"George—listen—"</p><p>"Pack your fucking shit up and get out of my apartment!" George says as he kneels down at the foot of his bed, picking up Dream's duffle bag. "Here I'll pack it for you!" George screams. </p><p>"George please just listen, I care—"</p><p>"Bullshit! Bullshit Clay!" George says as he throws the duffle bag at Dream. "I regret ever trusting someone like you!" George says as he pushes Dream, shoving him in the chest. </p><p>"Someone like me?"</p><p>"Someone as two-faced, someone whose such a fucking liar, someone who can go against someone the way you did—someone like you!" </p><p>Someone like you..</p><p> </p><p>George hated The Dream Team.</p><p>He thought the name they had given themselves was cocky and arrogant, he thought they were assholes who were desperate to get laid, he despised them.</p><p>He hated Clay—Dream the most.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Someone Like You Pt. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>George finds himself sucked into Dream—the campus’s biggest Frat-Boy’s spell when they meet again at a party, only after sharing drunken words nights prior.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>here’s part 2!! so many people wanted a second part so here it is! it’s long so buckle up!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Life moved on, as did George and Dream.</p><p>Sophomore year of college came and went, slipping by faster than George would have liked it to. August quickly turned into October, the last month of extreme partying. From November to March, Frat-Houses died down as did Sororities. Partying was a foreign concept in the colder seasons on campus. </p><p>The summer was spent back in London, visiting family and old friends. George spent his three months growing, learning, and healing. He went on an occasional date here and there, yet nothing more serious than that. He wasn't ready for anything more than that, and that was okay. </p><p>When August rolled around, George flew back to America to return to college. </p><p>Junior year was just three weeks away, and George rented a new apartment out, located right outside of campus. It felt fresh. It felt clean. It was nice to have a new room to sleep in, a new room that didn't remind him of anything or anyone. </p><p>A new home that didn't have an extra toothbrush that was forgotten one night, a new home that didn't have a sage-green hoodie buried deep inside the closet. </p><p>And hey, George even managed to make a new friend. He was his downstairs neighbor, and they happened to bump into each other in the elevator. His name was Alex, and he was.. something else. </p><p>He kept George company, though. And that's what mattered.</p><p>Dream on the other hand, he stayed put in The Dream Team Frat-House. And now that the first week of Junior year was just three weeks away, that meant it was time for the annual Welcome Back Party. </p><p>Cliche.</p><p>Word spread around campus quickly. The Friday before school would mark the party's date. Of course it was a Friday, it'd be wrong of them to schedule it as any other day.</p><p>Friday's were the best for throwing parties. Young adults were desperate to let loose after a week of work. </p><p>It was Thursday night when Alex brought it up while hanging out with George's. </p><p>"Are you attending The Dream Team's Welcome Back Party?" he spoke as they sat together at George's kitchen table, mindlessly scrolling through their cellphones while they are take-out. </p><p>George clenched his jaw as he looked up through his eyelashes. He shrugged nonchalantly as he set his fork down. </p><p>"Mmm, parties aren't really my thing." George says as he picks up his fork and resumes eating. "I mean," George says through a mouthful of food. "they used to be. Freshman and the beginning of Sophomore year were my prime-party-times."</p><p>"Oh come on George, this is the biggest party of the year and you're going to let it slip?" Alex complains.</p><p>George rolls his eyes as he set his fork down again. "Let's just say Frat-Houses and I don't get along very well." George says in short detail. </p><p>Alex leans over the table. </p><p>"Ooo, now you have to tell me why." </p><p>"Do I really? I didn't know it was a requirement for our friendship." George says.</p><p>"C'mon, it's only fair if you tell me. You can't just not give me an explanation!" Alex says as he adjusts his beanie. </p><p>"I don't think so." George says as he cracks a small smile.</p><p>"George. You have one of two options. You either tell me why you and Frat-Houses are rival enemies or you attend the biggest Welcome Back Party." </p><p>The Dream Team's party.</p><p>"I never said we were rival enemies, and there's no way in hell I'm attending that party." George says as he begins to dig through his food again, hoping to show disinterested in the conversation.</p><p>"Please George, it'll be our first party together! I'll never ask you to go to a party with me again! Come on, just one party? It's the biggest one this year! And you'll probably end up having fun!" Alex begs.</p><p>George rolls his eyes. </p><p>Alex is right, it is the biggest party. The odds of actually seeing him—Dream—are slim. It's just one party as well. It's tradition to attend the Welcome Back Party.</p><p>"Fine." George groans sarcastically as he smiles at Alex.</p><p>It's just one party.</p><p> </p><p>"Stay together or split up?" George asks as they stand on the front lawn of The Dream Team Frat-House.</p><p>The old building had already accumulated plenty of people, the most George had ever seen on the property. There's a banner hanging on the porch that reads in sloppy black paint 'Welcome back! Beer inside!' Silhouettes dancing and bobbing around could be seen through the windows. There's a beer can pinned to the wooden frame of the deck right above the poster that is used for darts. </p><p>"Split up. I'm getting lucky tonight." Alex says as he grins cheekily.</p><p>George gags. "Yeah, right."</p><p>"Don't be jealous I'm a sex-haver and you're not." </p><p>George laughs to himself. "Only if you knew." he pats Alex's shoulder before making his way up the dewy lawn, sucking in a deep breath as he slips past the front door and into the swarm of people.</p><p>The house seemed alive. The lights were dimmed perfectly—not too bright, not too dark. Rap music played on a low-quality speaker that sat atop of the kitchen cupboards. Even the kitchen was crowded, packed even, and maybe a bit too much. George took note as he turned in the direction of the backyard, by now knowing the house like the back of his hand. George snaked through the living room as gracefully as possible. </p><p>George glanced around at the pool of drunk teenagers and young adults as he made his way to the door. Everything was nearly perfect until a sweet-tongued blond girl who was pushing, grinding, forcing movements onto everyone near her stopped to attempt to dance on George.</p><p>The brunet rolled his eyes as he moved past of her, taking in the lyrics of the music blaring; "In the middle of the party, bitch get off of me." </p><p>Finally, he was met with the cool air of the backyard. A thin layer of sweat coated his body despite being in the house for only a short period of time. </p><p>The backyard left a bittersweet feeling. Per usual, there was a cup pong table set up. George smiled as he maneuvered past people to near the run-down, sticky, cream colored table. </p><p>"Will you play with me?" George raised a brow as a foreign girl suddenly grabbed his wrist. </p><p>"Beer-pong?" George asked in return as his other hand retracted to the back of his neck, scratching nervously.</p><p>"Yes! Please!" she begged, tugging on George's wrist. George thought back to what Alex said. After a moment of hesitation he spoke up.</p><p>"Fuck it, why not?"</p><p>She clapped giddily as George followed her to the far end of the table. Their opponents were a group of other girls, presumably her friends. Each red solo cups were filled with a gracious amount of alcohol, and after a short round of rock-paper-scissors George's team went first. The girl—whose name he still didn't know—threw first, missing a cup. The opposing team then threw, only after they gasped and laughed in relief when the ball didn't sink one of their cups. </p><p>Surprisingly, one of the girls managed to sink the ball in the nearest cup. George insisted he drink it, because by the looks of it, if his teammate drank anymore she'd end up passing out. Now, it was George's turn. He leaned over the table slightly as he retracted his hand before letting the ball spring out of his grasp, sending it to the other side of the table. The sticky ball rolled around the rim of a cup before dropping in. </p><p>George and his teammate celebrated as they watched one of the girls drink up. </p><p>By now, George had long forgotten about Alex. He was actually enjoying the moment with whoever his teammate was. It didn't take long until George had drank several cups of watered-down beer and was missing nearly every shot from his tipsiness. </p><p>A crowd had accumulated around the table, watching closely as the ball soared back and forth, occasionally scrambling to pick it up when it was launched too far. </p><p>"Whose playing?" a voice called from a distance. </p><p>George who was too busy to care, let his eyes slip shut as he tipped his head back to imbibe another cup of beer.</p><p>"Emily, Summer, Zoey, and—what's your name?" a boy amongst the crowd asked as he gripped George's shoulder. </p><p>"George." </p><p>"And George!" </p><p>"George?" the voice asked as it grew closer. </p><p>George pushed aside the voice as he caught the ball the team sent back. He handed it off to his teammate as he leaned against the table. His stomach felt nauseous and his eyes stung when he happened to move his head too fast. George heard as his teammate clapped and cheered when her toss rolled in and out of a cup before slipping next to the one besides it. George squeezed his eyes shut before opening them as he straightened up to watch the opposing team drink.</p><p>Instead, he was met with a tall blond wrapped snug in a letterman jacket, his hand in one pocket, his other clasping the neck of a beer bottle. His eyes were narrow as he watched George fix his posture. He looked lost in thought as he locked eyes with the brunet. Too drunk to react properly, George glared at him with a distasteful look set deep in his eyes.</p><p>He was met with the signature 'What's up?' head movement. </p><p>He quickly turned his attention back to the game when he felt his teammate squeeze his forearm in a mixture excitement and nervousness when both the opposing team and them were left with a single cup. George watched as one of the girls across the table handed the ping-pong ball off to the mischievous blond behind them. </p><p>"What no that isn't—" George spoke up before he was cut off with the cheering of the crowd when the ball rolled around their last cup before finally dropping in. </p><p>George shot his gaze up to the blond whose eyes had abandoned their mischievous look; now fire burned inside of them.</p><p> </p><p>George's apartment was empty when he arrived home for the night. Alex had left no trace of whether or not he stopped by to pick up his belongings. He supposed he could always go knock on the door below him, but that didn't seem like the most reasonable idea when he could barely walk straight.</p><p>His bed felt softer than ever as he collapsed onto it, pulling out his phone to check the time.<br/>'2:42 AM' it read.</p><p>George narrowed his eyes as he dug around his list on contacts, selecting Alex's to text him. </p><p>'Make it home?'</p><p>'You're still up?'</p><p>George furrowed his brows.</p><p>'Yes.'</p><p>'I thought you'd be asleep by now. You were pretty drunk.'</p><p>'You saw?'</p><p>Suddenly, his phone began to buzz against his hand as it rang. He tapped amongst the screen until he finally selected the answer call button.</p><p>"Are you home?" George spoke as he slowly sat up in bed. </p><p>"Are you?"</p><p>"Yeah, I made it home." George said as he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. </p><p>"You were pretty impressive tonight. I've never seen you so drunk." </p><p>"Thank—" George interrupted himself to burp. "thank you."</p><p>"I didn't expect to see you at one of my parties, like ever. Not after what happened between us." George furrowed a brow as he brought his phone from his ear to in front of his face.</p><p>"Shit," George murmured as he read the name of the contact. 'Clay.' "wrong—wrong person." George stuttered out.</p><p>"Tired of me already?" </p><p>"I can't do this right now." George said through the phone. "I'm too drunk for this."</p><p>"We can talk in person—"</p><p>The line went dead as George hung up, collapsing onto the soft comforter below him as he held his phone flush to his chest. </p><p>'We can talk in person.'</p><p> </p><p>"Did you have fun last night?" Alex asks as they converse at the kitchen table once again.</p><p>George shrugs. "Yeah, I think so." </p><p>"You think so?" Alex replied as he dips his spoon into the bowl of sugary milk and soggy cereal.</p><p>"I mean yeah, I had a good time. I had a lot of fun. I just wish I hadn't drank so much." George mumbles as he tilts the bowl back and guzzles down the last of the milk in his bowl. </p><p>So you could talk to him?</p><p>A thought tugs at George's mind but he squeezes his eyes and shakes his head to forget about it.</p><p>"Great, do you want to come to another party with me?" Alex asks.</p><p>"On a Saturday?" George asks in an attempt to dance around the conversation.</p><p>"It's still the weekend. This won't be a big party either, just me and close friends." Alex explains as he watches George nervously drag his finger around the rim of his dish.</p><p>"I'm not sure. Still feeling a bit hung-over." George explains as he looks up from his bowl. </p><p>"You don't have to drink. Besides, it's later in the day. I just wanted to bring you as a plus-one." Alex says.</p><p>"Sure," George says. </p><p>After he realizes he's admitted to attending the party with him, his eyes grow wide and he doesn't know why he said that—</p><p>"Great! Thanks Grog." Alex says.</p><p>"Yeah, you're welcome." George says as he stares back down at his bowl.</p><p>Maybe we'll talk.</p><p> </p><p>Its roughly seven in the afternoon when Alex and George set out for their party. They walk, as Alex insists it isn't far from their apartment complex. And it wasn't, yet George managed to complain about the distance nonetheless.</p><p>They arrive at a smaller house. </p><p>"You said it wasn't going to be a big party?" George mumbles as he grabs Alex's shoulder when he leads him inside. </p><p>"It isn't that big." Alex says as he shrugs off George's hand. "Ha! That's what she said." Alex laughs at his own joke as he leads them over to a group of people. George stands about awkwardly as Alex makes small talk. </p><p>The party isn't nearly as chaotic as the one he attended the night prior, but it's close. The chattering taking place all around and the smell of someone smoking a cigarette gives George a headache.</p><p>"I think I'm going to—" George says before she's cute off.</p><p>"But you haven't met Karl yet!" Alex says as he glances around the house.</p><p>"Put in a good word for me." George says as he waves and turns on his heel, heading for another room, anywhere where there's isn't so much noise and such a horrid smell. There's a few people sitting in the kitchen, and there's quite a bit of people in the living room. George drags his hand along the wall as he leads himself to a four-season room, plucking an un-opened beer bottle from a desk on his way in. </p><p>He pops the lid off with his teeth, wincing when he scrapes his gums a bit. The room is empty and everything is calmer. </p><p>George tugs his phone out from his pocket as he sits down on one of the couches, tipping his head back as he takes a sip of his beer. His eyes dance across the screen as he selects the message app, clicking on his most recent conversation.</p><p>Dream.</p><p>The words 'You saw?' was the last message sent before the blond called him in the late hours of the night. George rolls his eyes at the thought of their conversation. He sets his phone down next to him as he takes another swig of his beer. </p><p>In this room, it's quiet and relaxed. There isn't a scent of cigarette smoke that's hurting his thoughts. It's calm here.</p><p>As George sinks into the cushions, there's a new roar of voices emerging into the house. They're loud—George can hear them all the way from the back of the house. George furrows his brows as he grabs his phone and beer and ditches the comfortable couch. He slips out of the room and back into the more lively rooms of the house. </p><p>The voices grow louder, as does the smell of alcohol mixed with punch and cigarette smoke. The voices sounds familiar, a little too familiar, and it strikes George when he enters the living room.</p><p>There's a swarm of four or five vibrantly colored letterman jackets, each fitting it's owner nice and snug, especially Dream. </p><p>"We heard there was alcohol, so, of course we had to come." Dream's friend speaks, and George can identify him as Sapnap. </p><p>Such a stupid fucking nickname. Or that's what George thought at least.</p><p>After George's eyes land on The Dream Team, they're desperately in search of Alex, darting to every couch and nook and cranny in the room. </p><p>"Excuse me," George mutters as he pushes past them, his beer wobbling in his hand. </p><p>He needs out, and he needs out right now.</p><p>"Hey watch where—George?"</p><p>George's eyes clamp shut at the voice. The brunet turns on his heel. "Uh, hey?" He isn't sure what the right reply is, but greeting him makes the most sense.</p><p>"Hey, what are you doing here?" Dream asks as he steps away from The Dream Team.</p><p>"I was actually about to find my friend and head out, I'm not feeling the best." George lies. He peeks his head around the blond in an attempt to look for Alex.</p><p>"Oh, really? Do you maybe need help looking for them?" Dream asks as he steps closer. George steps back. </p><p>"It's okay, actually. I'll just text them that I left. Thanks, though." George says as he sets down his beer on an end table and turns around, hurrying away.</p><p>"Do you need someone to walk you home?" Dream asks as he follows after him. "Just to make sure you get home safely—y'know, 'cause you don't feel well."</p><p>'We can talk in person.'</p><p>George purses his lips together. He feels Dream's fingers wrap around his shoulder the second he's out of the house and on the front porch. He can't help but think back to the night Dream gripped his shoulders so feverishly as he pushed him down onto the bed at his party, he can't help but think of the way Dream watched him touch himself, he can't help but think of the way Dream held his wrists above his head as he licked his stomach, licking up—</p><p>"Fine." George blurts out without realizing it.</p><p>Dream pauses at his side, staring down at him. "Let's go, then." </p><p>"I moved." George says as he slinks down the steps, Dream following closely at his side. "I live this way now." </p><p>Dream silently nods as he follows George down the cement sidewalk. "Why'd you move?" he asks in an attempt to make small talk. </p><p>'To escape the memories every room left of you," George thinks. "Just wanted a fresh start, that's all." he lies.</p><p>"Mhmm." Dream hums as he sticks his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "How's that going?"</p><p>"Good. My friend lives in the apartment right below me, so that's convenient." George says as they walk. </p><p>"What's their name?" Dream asks.</p><p>"Alex."</p><p>"Are you two.." Dream trails off, glancing down at George, whose gaze is fixated on the ground. </p><p>"No. I'm not interested in him like that. Besides, he's not into guys." George mumbles.</p><p>'We can talk in person.'</p><p>Dream nods in response. "What'd you do over the summer?" he asks.</p><p>"Visited home."</p><p>"London?" Dream asks.</p><p>"Yeah, London. That was nice, seeing everyone. What'd you do?" </p><p>"Not much. Visited home, too. I brought Nick—I mean Sapnap with. Did a lot of training and exercising for this season." George nods. He can't help but imagine Dream dripping sweat as he trained for this year's football season like his life depended on it, he can't help but imagine his muscles—"Are you listening?" Dream's hand brushes George's side in an attempt to gain his attention. His fingers grab at his rib cage before dragging down his shirt.</p><p>"I'm listening." George lies.</p><p>"Do you plan on going to our first game?" Dream asks once again, now that he's got George's attention.</p><p>"Uh, I'm not sure." George mumbles as he glances over at Dream. The blond only nods as they continue down the sidewalk. The wind tousles his hair, blowing the sandy hair in every direction. He pulls his letterman jacket around himself tighter before glancing over at George. The brunet quickly glances away, steering his direction forward.</p><p>"You should. Besides—I need a cheerleader." Dream jokes innocently as he nudges the brunet with his elbow. </p><p>"You wish. Oh, we're here." George says as they approach the parking lot of a small apartment building. It's exterior is modern looking, and Dream was certain it was an upgrade from George's old apartment. "Thanks, I guess. For walking me home."  George mutters as they cross through the parking lot and near the building.</p><p>"You're welcome." Dream says as he opens the door to the lobby, letting George slip in. "Do you want—do you um, want me to walk you to your apartment?" Dream asks.</p><p>"Sure. No harm in making sure I make it there safely." </p><p>That's a lie. He just wants to talk more.</p><p>Dream follows closely behind George as he leads them to the building's elevator. When they enter the small room, it's just the two of them. They're all alone. </p><p>"The building is nice." Dream comments as he watches George select the fifth floor. </p><p>"Yeah, the apartments are even nicer." George explains as he waits for the elevator to start moving. When it does, there's a jerk in the mechanics and George grabs Dream's arm to stabilize himself. The blond can feel his face flush at the way the smaller boy clings to him. "S-sorry, I didn't try to—"</p><p>"It's okay." Dream says as George let's go of him, taking an awkward step to the side. </p><p>Come back.</p><p>Suddenly, the elevator jerks once more and the doors open. George is the first to step out, leading Dream to his apartment. As per usual, the door is unlocked. George pushes the white door open, revealing his territory. </p><p>'We can talk in person.'</p><p>"Do you want to come in?" George asks as he sucks in a nervous breath. </p><p>"Sure," Dream says as he snakes past George and into the foreign apartment.</p><p>It's larger than he assumed. There's a small hallway with a rack for keys and a mat for shoes at the entrance. Further in, there's the living area. To the left, there's a guest bedroom and to the right there's the dining area. Across from the dining area is a kitchen. There's a small hallway in the dead center of the dining area and kitchen that leads to the master bedroom—and connected to the hallway is the apartment's only bathroom.</p><p>The interior is similar to the exterior, it's modern looking and bare. It's mostly hues of grey, black, and white.</p><p>Dream drags his finger along the wall as he makes his way inside, glancing at the smaller details. The blanket that's been discarded on the floor of the living room, the earbuds wrapped in a knot on the dining table, the hoodie draped over the back of one of the table chairs—which appears to be two or three sizes too big. </p><p>"Like it?" George asks as he kicks the door shut before following Dream into the kitchen. </p><p>"Is this yours?" Dream asks as he picks up the black hoodie.</p><p>"Yeah, it is. I accidentally ordered it a couple sizes too big—can you tell?" George asks as he takes the item of clothing from Dream's grasp before slipping it over his head. It droops on his figure. </p><p>"I-I can tell." Dream says as he imagines how much bigger his clothes would be on George's body. George chuckles.</p><p>"So, a few weeks ago over the phone you said we could talk in person—what was that about?" George asks confidently. </p><p>It was now or never.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>"Just wanted to catch up, that's all." Dream lies as he leans against the dining table. "I didn't expect a call from you that night." Dream mumbles as he watches George rolls up the sleeves of his two-sizes too big hoodie. </p><p>"Did you expect this?" George asks as he points between the two of them. </p><p>There's a tension so thick in the room, it could be sliced through with a knife. Dream stills in place. He didn't expect this, he never expected to be alone with George ever again—let alone in his own house. </p><p>"No." Dream eventually replies. His voice is barely above a whisper. "Not after what I did to you." </p><p>George cocks a brow. "So you admit that what you did to me was wrong?" </p><p>Please. Please admit it. </p><p>"Yes. What I did to you was wrong. So wrong. I wouldn't do that to you again." Dream says as he stands up straight, shuffling in place as George steps closer. </p><p>"You wouldn't?" George asks.</p><p>"I wouldn't." Dream says as he reaches out and grabs the fabric of George's hoodie, tugging him closer. "Do you forgive me?" Dream asks. </p><p>George swallows nervously as he feels Dream's hands roam from his hoodie pocket to his ribs. He feels as the blond digs his nails into his sides. "I forgive you."</p><p>Dream's left hand snakes up to George's head, and he pulls him flush to his chest. The blond's hand is shaking as he lowers it back down to his side. </p><p>"Has there been anyone else?" Dream asks quietly, afraid that if he speaks too loud he'll scare George off. </p><p>George thinks off to the many dates he went on while in London. They were nothing but dates. He didn't kiss a single one of them, he didn't invite a single one of them home—</p><p>"No. There's been no one." George says as he rests his head against Dream's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. </p><p>Dream's hand gently squeezes his side before slipping South. His hand grips George's hip before snaking around his waist and grabbing his bottom. </p><p>"Is that okay?" Dream asks. </p><p>"Yes." George croaks as he cranes his neck to look upwards. He meets Dream's hazel eyes. </p><p>"Do you think I could make you feel the way I used to?" Dream asks as his left hand creeps away and towards the brunet's hip. He drags his index finger against George's thigh. </p><p>"Yes."</p><p>That's all it takes before Dream is pushing George towards the master bedroom he spotted upon first entering the house. </p><p>"You don't know," Dream pushes George onto the bed. He watches as George sprawls on his back near the headboard. "how much I've missed you," Dream shrugs off his letterman jacket before grabbing the hem on his white shirt. He tugs it over and off his head before discarding it on the floor. "how many times I've thought of you late at night," Dream hurriedly unbuttons his jeans before yanking them down and stepping out of them. "how much I've thought about confessing who I truly am just to be with you, just to call you mine."</p><p>George doesn't push when Dream admits he thought of him at night, he doesn't push to know what Dream thought about late at night, he doesn't push to know where he thought of him at, either.</p><p>"I could be yours." George mumbles as he raises his hips off the mattress to let Dream tug his sweatpants down his legs. Now, he's left in his boxers and oversized hoodie. </p><p>"You are." Dream says as he grabs George's hoodie, gently pushing it up and towards his chest to expose his stomach. "You're mine right now." </p><p>"And when you leave?" </p><p>"You'll still be mine. Who else can do what I do for you?" Dream asks.</p><p>"No one." George says as he sits up to remove his hoodie. Dream snatched his wrists and shoves him back down onto the mattress.</p><p>"No. Keep it on." he says through a stern voice as he bunches the fabric around George's chest once more. George doesn't question it. </p><p>Dream's eyes rake down every inch of his body as he lays all sprawled out for him. He leans forward and drags his thumb from George's chest down to his stomach. He smiles when George squirms under the ticklish touch. His finger drags even lower. He drags it across George's clothed erection.</p><p>It's a featherlight touch but it has George pining for more.</p><p>"Dream," George says, but the sight of Dream's hand running over of his skin distracts him. </p><p>"Clay. Call me Clay." George nods feverishly.</p><p>Dream runs his hand over George's bare stomach. His hand engulfs so much of George's body, he could hold him down so easily. "So big," George says as he watches Dream's hand wrap around his hip. </p><p>"My hands?" Dream asks as his other hand grips George's bare thigh. </p><p>"Yes," George says as his head sinks into the pillows behind him. He lets his eyes flutter shut as he feels Dream drag his fingertips against his skin. "you could h-hold me down so easily." </p><p>Dream had never seen George so flustered. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his snarky, sassy attitude, it was that he had never seen George so stripped down, personality wise. </p><p>"You are something else." Dream murmurs as he drags his hand up George's stomach, up his chest, his throat, before resting his fingers on the brunet's pretty-pink lips. "Suck." </p><p>George does as told as he parts his lips, letting Dream slip them into his mouth. He wraps his lips around the blond's fingers. His tongue slides over the rough skin before his pushes further down on the digits, making sure they're coated in saliva. Dream watches with wide eyes as George sucks, his puckering lips bobbing up and down his fingers. Dream contracts them from George's mouth suddenly. </p><p>"I can take more," George says immediately as he sits up, his hands reaching for the waistband of Dream's boxers. "please."</p><p>"I've never met someone like you." Dream says as he uses his hand free of George's saliva to run a hand through his brown locks. "You are something else." </p><p>"I only am for you. Only for you, Clay." George says as he tugs down Dream's boxers. Dream gulps as both of his hands cup George's cheeks, tugging his face closer to his cock. </p><p>"Prove you can take more." </p><p>And George does.</p><p> </p><p>It's early morning when George wakes. Goosebumps trickle his skin. His body is bare besides his boxers—maybe they're Dream's boxers—that hang loose on hips and his hoodie. There's no blankets or sheets covering him. They're all tugged to the left of the bed. When George sits up, he realizes Dream is still in his bed, and Instagram is displayed on his phone screen. The blond glances over his shoulder at George. </p><p>"G'morning." Dream greets. His voice is groggy and it sends a ripple down George's spine.</p><p>"Morning." George says as he glances around the room. The brunet stretches before climbing out of bed. "Are these your boxers?" George asks as he bends down at the foot of the bed.</p><p>"They've gotta be. These are way too small for me." Dream says as he discards his phone on the bed before joint George at the pile of clothes on the floor. "You can keep them, though. I like how my clothes look on you." </p><p>"Oh." George blushes at the comment as he watches Dream retrieve his t-shirt from the floor. "Do you want breakfast?"</p><p>"Sure." Dream says as he follows George to the kitchen. "Have you thought about coming to my game?" Dream asks as he stands next to George at the stove, whose mixing eggs and milk together for scrambled eggs. </p><p>George loves it. </p><p>He loves the way Dream wraps an arm around his waist like they're a married couple. He loves the way they're speaking to each other as if they never had a falling-out.</p><p>"Maybe," George murmured as he hands Dream a fork to set in the sink. </p><p>"Please, I need someone to come watch me." </p><p>"Don't you have enough fans? Everyone is practically there for you anyway." George says.</p><p>"They mean nothing if you're not there." Dream says as he presses a kiss to George's neck. </p><p>"You think so?" </p><p>"I know so." </p><p>"I'll make a deal with you." George says as he turns on the stove burner. </p><p>"Hmm?" Dream hums as he pulls George close, closing the proximity between them. George pushes off of Dream's chest and takes a step back. </p><p>"If I come to your game, you have to tell people about us." George says as he crosses his arms over his chest before leaning against the counter across from Dream. The blond's face drops at George's words. </p><p>"What?" </p><p>"If I come, you tell people. The Dream Team, too." George says nervously. "Clay, I don't want us to end up the way we did before. I don't want to be strangers again. I don't deserve that. Y-you don't deserve that, either. I deserve more than to be a secret." George says. His voice cracks and wavers. </p><p>"George," Dream says as he runs his hands over his face. "George I—"</p><p>"No, Clay. You either tell people about us or were strangers again," George says. "I don't want to be strangers, Clay. I want you. I need you."</p><p>Dream didn't reply as he stared at the ground. </p><p>His silence spoke enough words.</p><p> </p><p>"George, you don't even like football! I wanted to spend the night at my apartment!" Alex complains as he follows George. </p><p>"Because it's important that I'm here, Alex." George says as he steps up onto the bleachers. </p><p>"And we have to sit in the front? Why not the back?" Alex complains.</p><p>"Because I need him to see me!" George says as they sit down whilst the team warms up. </p><p>"You need—wait a second—" Alex leans in close. "Are you fucking one of the players?" George rolls his eyes and looks away to hide his flushed cheeks. "Oh my god you are!" Alex says as his eyes dart to the field. "Which one is it?"</p><p>"It's not like that, Alex. We go back."</p><p>"You go back? And how far?"</p><p>"Like a year," George says." "I know it doesn't sound like a lot but it is to us—or to me, at least." Alex gives him an unamused face. "Look, it's starting." George says as he elbows Alex, who turns his attention to the field.</p><p>The game starts off strong. Dream is passed the ball at the beginning of a play. As quarterback, he throws the football across the field to his running back, Sapnap, whose able to catch it and score a touchdown right off the bat.</p><p>The crowd goes wild, including George.</p><p>George didn't even enjoy football, but watching Dream jokingly flex his muscles and tackle his friends in celebration makes it worth it. </p><p>Dream, whose too caught up in the game, doesn't realize George came to watch him until he's running off the field during halftime. Their eyes meet as he's high-fiving everyone he can as he runs along the bleachers. </p><p>He looks surprised—after that morning at George's apartment, Dream didn't entertain the idea of telling people about them. George didn't entertain the idea of attending his game, either, so it's surprising to see him there overall. </p><p>Their hands linger together longer than anyone else's. Alex seems to notice, because the second the halftime show starts he speaks up.</p><p>"That's him, isn't it? It's the Dream of The Dream Team."</p><p>"Maybe." George says quietly.</p><p>"I thought you'd end up with some loser who rides the bench—not the star quarterback!"</p><p>"Cliche, right?" George asks as he sticks his hands into his pockets.</p><p>"Maybe you are part of the sex-havers." Alex says as he gives George a shove. </p><p>George rolls his eyes as he shoves him back. "I've been part of the sex-havers."</p><p>George and Alex turn their attention back to the game when the players run back onto the field. The game is being lead by Dream. They're winning by a landslide thanks to Dream's throws—and as much as George hates to mention it, Sapnap's catches. </p><p>When the game eventually comes to an end, the home team has won by a staggering twenty-two points. The team meets in the center of the field before their fans are let loose to the field. Most of the boys are visiting friend and family and taking pictures. George tells Alex to wait by the bleachers as he nervously makes his way out onto the field.</p><p>He spots Dream whose catching up with several of his friends. They're discussing the game they ended minutes prior. Dream is receiving pats on the back and bro-hugs from the other Dream Team members. </p><p>The blond spots George approaching them. He's wearing a pair of jeans and his hoodie that's two or three sizes too big. His heart swoons at the sight of the hood flipped up around his head, bits of his hair sticking out here and there. </p><p>He steps away from his friends, who are confused as to why he's about to speak to George Davidson—Gay George. </p><p>"Hey," Dream greets as he holds his arms out for a hug, which George nervously steps into. "you came." Dream whispers in his ear as he hugs him tightly, ignoring the comments from his friends. </p><p>"I wouldn't miss it for the world. I knew it was important to you that I was here tonight. You did amazing." George says as he wraps his arms around Dreams shoulders. </p><p>"Thank you. I'm really glad you're here." Dream says as he breaks off the hug. "That's why I'm doing this."</p><p>"Hmm—" George hums before Dream stoops down and closes the friendly proximity between them, connecting their lips. </p><p>It felt so good to finally be able to kiss Dream in public, to finally let all the flirtatious girls who try to saunter off with his letterman jacket that's he's not into them, it feels so good to finally have what he's craved for the longest time. </p><p>When George breaks off the kiss, a trail of saliva falls from both of their lips. </p><p>"Whoops," Dream says through a laugh as he wipes his lips off with the back of his hand. His friends are making their way over, followed by other students and young adults who want to know what's happening.</p><p>"Y'know, Clay, I never knew I'd be able to fall in love with someone like you."</p><p> </p><p>George no longer hated The Dream Team.</p><p>Sure, he still thought the name they gave themselves was cocky and arrogant, sure, he still thought most of them were desperate to get laid, but he didn't hate them.</p><p>All because of someone like Dream.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i hope you enjoyed this! i’m sorry if there any spelling errors lol didn’t proof read this! if you wanna follow my wattpad, my user is ‘claywastaken’! i post more on there :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi! i hope you enjoyed this &lt;3 leave kudos and comments or whateva</p></blockquote></div></div>
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